


Rainstorm

by fangirl_squee



Series: homies help homies, always [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, Marius is a lot craftier than people give him credit for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainstorm

“I think he’s avoiding me,” says Grantaire, the third time Enjorlas sends Combeferre in his place to discuss the rally posters.

 

Marius frowned. “I’m sure he’s not.”

 

_Still_ , Marius thinks, _this is getting a little ridiculous._

As the rally gets closer, Enjolras consistently double (or triple) books himself. This time, it was discussing the final designs for the poster with Grantaire versus confirming the rally’s area with the Dean.

 

Grantaire jokes, and tries to brush it off, but he stops sketching afterwards. He starts back up again the next day or the day after, but it makes Marius uneasy.

 

Normally, Grantaire has a small sketch pad in his back pocket around the house, for quick practise sketches (“Marius, come here a minute and take off your shoes, I need to practise feet”). He has another, larger, sketch book that he mainly used for pre-painting sketches. And that wasn’t even counting all the scraps of paper that got left around the house – a caricature of the head of campus police, Javert, eyes bulging as he glared at Professor Valjean holding a kitten, sketches of dragons with dark blue pen ink scales on the pad by the phone, quick pencil sketches of Marius (asleep at their tiny kitchen table, slumped over a book “because it’s the only time you’re not twitching around”), even a few of Cosette (Marius’ favourite sketch, done in blue pencil, of Cosette wearing Marius’ old high school track and field sweatshirt, damp hair curling slightly from the rain, reading on their couch).

 

(Grantaire usually just throws them out, but Marius started keeping them in a shoebox “for when you’re a famous artist”. Grantaire rolls his eyes, but he smiles, and he does start leaving them on the kitchen table instead.)

 

It’s not as though Grantaire minds meeting with Combeferre instead. Combeferre gives clear instructions about what should or should not be on the posters, and has been very helpful with ideas, colour schemes, and slogans. There’s absolutely nothing wrong or bad about only discussing the posters with Combeferre.

 

It’s just not why he wanted to do the posters in the first place.

 

Marius spends the afternoon texting Combeferre (in between texts to Cosette, of course) to figure out Enjolras’ schedule for the next day. He’s supposed to be meeting Enjolras to go over the permits they need.

 

“He’s meeting me at the café tomorrow, you should bring your designs and then you can talk to him afterwards,” says Marius, as they brush their teeth.

 

Grantaire makes a face, and spits in the sink. “I’m not going to tag along to your meeting just so I can watch Enjolras look over my poster designs in person. He’s already seen them, and anyway, Combeferre says they’re fine.”

 

“Still,” says Marius, toothpaste flicking as he waves his toothbrush, “you know what Enjolras is like. He’ll probably feel less stressed if he sees them in person before they go to print.”

 

Grantaire _hmms_ in agreement around his toothbrush.

 

Marius adopts a wheedling tone. “It’s at 4 tomorrow, you’ll already be on campus anyway, come on.”

 

Grantaire spits again and sighs dramatically. “I suppose if it means that much to you.”

 

Marius waits until his bedroom door is closed to do a celebratory fight pump.

 

The next day is rainy and cold (“thunderstorms predicted for later tonight” says the radio). Grantaire would probably have blown off his morning class if he hadn’t booked in time at the studio to work on his assignment (at least Marius has a car, which saves them both from a long, wet walk to the bus stop). The meeting with Enjolras does not factor into his decision at all. Nope. Not even a little.

 

He gets caught up in his latest assignment (‘reimagined myths and legends’ is the brief. Grantaire is about half-way through his - the intricate circuitry of his robot dragon is fun the paint but incredibly time consuming), so he gets to the café late, and slightly damp (annoyingly, not all the walkways in between the studio and the café are covered). Enjolras and Marius are, of course, already there.

 

“Sorry I’m late.”

 

“That’s okay,” says Marius cheerfully.

 

Enjolras just stares at him.

 

(Enjolras stares, because Grantaire has managed to get paint in ridiculous places. Enjolras stares because some of the paint has gotten wet from the rain, and is running in a small rivet down Grantaire’s collarbone, where his too-loose t-shirt is pulled at an odd angle.)

 

“Actually,” continues Marius, “I was just about to apologise too. I’ve just realised that I told Cosette I’d have dinner with her tonight, so I have to head out,” he looks down at his watch, “uh, now. Sorry Enjolras.” Enjolras opens his mouth, but Marius steamrolls on. “You can still look over Grantaire’s designs now though! It’s much better to see them in person, I think.”

 

“Marius, we still have to review the permits,” starts Enjolras.

 

But Marius is already standing, stinging his bag over his shoulder and fiddling with his umbrella. “Combeferre said they were all sorted, and you can always email me! I have to go now or I’ll be late, I can’t keep her waiting!”

 

Grantaire laughs. “Such a gentleman. Have a good dinner Marius, say hi to Cosette for me.”

 

Marius smile widens. “I will. See you later!”

 

And he’s gone. Leaving Grantaire opposite a man who cancelled on him three times, and who sends word via Combeferre.

 

Grantaire digs out his sketchbook, where the almost-final-just-waiting-on-approval-from-Enjolras poster designs are. He flicks through to the right page.

 

“Okay, so, Combeferre said these were the ones you liked, so I’ve done final version of them. This is probably the last chance we’ll have to do any proper changes to them before they go to Feuilly for printing.”

 

Enjolras flicks through the three designs, and Grantaire fidgets. It’s one thing to have criticism via email, and it’s another thing entirely to be able to watch Enjolras’ face as he looks at Grantaire’s work.

 

The third design is Grantaire’s favourite - crowd of black and blue toned people gather around a central figure in red, his golden hair swirls as his raises the red flag, the logo of the Les Amis, high above his head. Enjolras runs a pale finger over the flag.

 

“Is this supposed to be me? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

 

“Well, yeah. You are the focus point of the rally, and most of the promotional material already features you in some way. It made sense to have at least one poster with you.”

 

(Not to mention it makes all the sketches Grantaire has done of Enjorlas during meetings seem less like stalking, and more like practise.)

 

Enjolras nods. “I suppose. How ready are these for print?”

 

“I was just going to tidy them up a little, which shouldn’t take me too long to do. I can have them to Feuilly by tomorrow afternoon?”

 

Enjolras nods again, his mind obviously elsewhere. “Good.”

 

“Well, I guess that’s it then. I’ll let you get back to … whatever it is you do.”

 

“Just making notes tonight. Combeferre says I should take a break.”

 

Judging from Enjolras’ tone, he doesn’t agree with Combeferre’s assessment. Grantaire, taking note of the darkness under Enjolras’ eyes, does.

 

“Maybe you should, and I know this might sound crazy, but maybe you should take an actual break for the night.”

 

“I’m _fine_. Besides, note-taking is relaxing.”

 

Grantaire laughs. “Whatever you say. See you later.”

 

Enjolras _hmms_ , already turning to his book.

 

Grantaire takes about five steps out the café doors before he realises a) it’s still raining, and b) Marius was his ride home.

 

“Did you forget something?” asks Enjolras after a moment.

 

Grantaire grins sheepishly. “Sort of. I kind of needed Marius to give me a ride home. And now he’s gone, I kind of need a ride from you.”

 

“You can’t take the bus?”

 

“Maybe if I felt like swimming there. I don’t have an umbrella either.”

 

“You want me to drive you.” Enjolras’ flat tone make it a statement, not a question.

 

“If you don’t mind?”

 

Enjolras considers it. “If you don’t mind waiting here for a few hours, then I can.”

 

Grantaire drops into the chair opposite Enjolras and digs out his sketchbook again. “That’s fine. I have some stuff I can work on.”

 

Grantaire gets absorbed in sketching quickly. He’s working on a cyborg knight (to fight the robot dragon), and his teacher wants preliminary sketches of _everything_. The weaponry is pretty fun to draw though, and his cyborg knight has quite the armoury by the time Enjolras asks if he’s ready to go.

 

The car ride back is fifteen minutes long, and Grantaire can honestly say the longest time they’ve spent alone together. It’s also the longest he has been in Enjolras’ presence without an argument, but given how quiet Enjolras is, he’s not sure that is really counts.

 

Every so often, Enjolras’ glances at him. He looks like he’s about to say something but changes his mind at the last moment.

 

“Uh, this is me,” says Grantaire, breaking the silence as the turn on his street, “up here on the left.”

 

Enjolras parks the car, keeping the windshield wipers on.

 

“Thanks,” says Grantaire, feeling incredibly awkward as he puts his bag around his shoulder. It pulls annoyingly at his t-shirt, and he rubs absent-mindedly at the paint drying there.

 

(Enjolras is staring again, at the bright blue paint as it flakes off under Grantaire’s fingers.)

 

“It was fine. I mean, you’re welcome. It wasn’t that much of a detour.”

 

(That’s pretty much 100% a lie, since Enjolras lives in the opposite direction.)

 

“I guess I’ll see you later then.” Grantaire fiddles with his bag strap.

 

“Let me know when you send the poster designs to Feuilly. CC me into the email.”

 

“Yeah, okay, I will.”

 

Grantaire has half a leg out the door when Enjolras grabs his wrist. “Take my umbrella.”

 

Grantaire moves back into the car. “I live just there Enjolras, I don’t need it.”

 

“You’ll get soaked. My parking is undercover, I don’t need it for today. You can just give it to me later.”

 

Grantaire stares at Enjolras for a moment, before staring at his wrist. Enjolras is still holding it loosely. His hand is very warm. “Um, sure, I guess.”

 

Enjolras lets go of him, reaching under his seat for the umbrella. “Just give it back to me the next time you see me.”

 

“Well, that might be a while, given how long it took you to actually take a look at the posters in person.” He means it as a joke, he really, really does, but it still sounds a little bitter.

 

Enjolras frowns. “I am sorry about that. I’m usually much better at keeping track of my appointments, but this rally –“

 

“It’s fine.” GRantaire looks down, fiddling now with the umbrella, “they’re just posters.”

 

“Well, they’re very good posters. I’m sorry it took me so long to see them properly.”

 

Grantaire huffs a laugh. “I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. You’re forgiven.”

 

Grantaire looks up, and Enjolras is staring at him again. Enjolras looks like he did on the ride over, like there’s something he wants to say, something on the tip of his tongue, that he just can’t quite get out.

 

He pushes the car door again, opening the umbrella to cover him as he climbs out. “I’ll see you later Enjolras.”

 

“Goodbye,” Enjolras calls after him.

 

He waits until Grantaire is at the door before he drives away.

 

Grantaire goes to bed smiling and wakes up the same way.

 

 

(“So why did you decide to have a such an impromptu date night?” asks Cosette, curious, when Marius picks her up, ”not that I’m complaining about spontaneity, but usually you’re an advanced-notice kind of guy.”

 

Marius smiles. “No reason. Where do you want to go for dinner?”)

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is loved forever: fangirl-squee.tumblr.com/ask


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